


In Love

by writeitgood018



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M, Perspectives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 15:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17942075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeitgood018/pseuds/writeitgood018
Summary: The moment Race and Spot realized they were in love





	In Love

When Race realizes he is in love with Spot, it is sudden.

It surprises him.

Racetrack Higgins is not used to surprises.

Racetrack Higgins is smart, sure, and savvy. There’s a reason he’s the best poker player in New York, at least among the newsies. Every move he makes is calculated, every card he places is precise. He reads the room like a newspaper and sells his bluffs the same way he does his papes.

When Race realizes he is in love with Spot, his world shifts.

They are by the Brooklyn docks, looking out over the still water. Spot nudges his shoulder, a half-swallowed laugh caught between his teeth.

The conversation stops only briefly, but it only takes a moment for Race to know. Legs dangling off the edge of the pier, Spot’s hand still on his arm, and he knows.Racetrack Higgins is in love with Spot Conlon.

Before he can pause to consider this development, Spot is taking his hand and dragging him up, betting that he can get to the Brooklyn lodging house before Race can.

Racetrack Higgins never turns down a bet, at least not one he thinks he can win.

The pounding of his feet on the paved cobblestones distracts him, and the lodging house is too loud to think about words like ‘love’.

He doesn’t think about it again until he slips into his bunk at the Manhattan lodging house, a dollar richer after several rounds of poker with the Brooklyn newsies.

The lights are off and the room is quiet.

He closes his eyes.

Racetrack Higgins is in love with Spot Conlon.

Alone and in the dark, Race smiles.

He should never have been surprised.

 

* * *

 

When Spot realizes he is in love with Race, it is loud.

His mind is running a million miles an hour, fueled by the energized shouts of his fellow newsies and the half-drunk beer in his hand.

Spot is quiet. He stands in the middle of a crowd, soaking in the atmosphere, enjoying the feeling of a night off. He would never admit it, but he looks forward to nights when all the newsies gather together, Manhattan and Brooklyn, Bronx and Queens, Flushing and Richmond, all cares and concerns put away for one night of fun.

He stands behind Racetrack’s chair as the boy in question wins hand after hand of poker, his opponents leaving the table, disgruntled and out of money, only to be replaced by fresher, more naive competition.

A laugh bubbles in his throat, caught up in the joy of this moment, watching Race in his element.

As he leans forward, Race twists around to face him, smirking. Spot’s eyes catch on the gleam in Race’s bright blue eyes, and the slight curve to his mouth, noticing the way his guard is instantaneously let down as he faces his best friend.

And suddenly, Spot knows.

Spot Conlon is in love with Racetrack Higgins.

He blinks, and the moment is gone. Race turns back to the table, raising the bet and laughing as one player after another folds.

The room erupts into chaos, movement and music and raised voices creating a seamless melody. Spot is left to stare in silence at the boy in front of him, his best friend. His Race.

Spot Conlon is in love with Racetrack Higgins.

After a moment, he smiles.

He is not a good poker player, but he now knows what it feels like to win.

 

* * *

 

The confessions come later. Spot stands in an alleyway, Race leaning against the wall, facing him. It is dark. It is quiet. It is still.

Spot decides to be brave. His head is filled with noise, but he takes Race’s hand in his. His cheeks flush slightly and his voice shakes, so small in the still night air, but Race hears.

Three words.

For a moment, Race stares. His head is quiet, those three little words repeating again and again. He smiles.

He says them back. Spot looks up, shocked. He takes Race’s other hand, fingers warm against his skin.

Both boys smile.

Racetrack Higgins leans in and kisses Spot Conlon.

They are in love.

 


End file.
